


Seeing Blind

by hry



Category: One Direction
Genre: AU, M/M, Miscommunication, The 10 Year Plan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 07:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12649230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hry/pseuds/hry
Summary: A tale of two best friends and a relationship pact.





	Seeing Blind

**Author's Note:**

> This is a literal carbon copy of the 10 year plan. An au nobody asked for. This is me feeding myself.
> 
> Title is the third track on Niall's Flicker album give it a listen xxx
> 
> Ty to my beta, the queen of writing, @karmelayeah. Check her fic out ladies!

Under the dark mahogany table for two, Harry Styles’ sweaty fingers were wrapped around the rough stem of a freshly cut rose. 

“So, I wanted to go someplace special tonight… Somewhere romantic,” Harry said as he handed it across the table to a handsome man whose only reply was a surprised look on his face.

He accepted the small gift. That was a win in Harry’s book.

He drawled on. “If you've met someone worth it, I think you should spoil them. It’s important to find that special person you can be yourself around.”

Harry thought he saw the beginnings of a smile forming on the man’s lips. He rested his clothed elbows on the table, resting his chin on clasped hands.

“Someone you could spend the rest of your life with.” He ended his short piece—he had practiced reciting it in front of a mirror, twice—with a sweet, dimpled smile. “This calls for a toast.”

Both men picked up their champagne-filled glasses. Harry raised his in delight, proclaiming, “Here’s to relationships.”

The man across him looked like he’d swallowed something sour, reluctantly clinking his glass on Harry’s. “To first dates.”

They both took a long sip for different reasons. Harry was sure this lovely man who was sat across him was the one. The one set his glass down and stared at the table for a moment, his forehead wrinkling. Maybe he forgot to bring Harry something.

“Would you excuse me for a minute?”

“Of course.”

He stood up and walked too casually towards the hall where the toilets was to the left and the exit was to the right. Harry’s throat suddenly felt tight. _It’s over_ , he thought.

The man turned left.

Harry sighed in relief and took his phone out from the pocket of his floral shirt. Just like muscle memory, he typed out a name he’d typed out a hundred times already that he’s certain he could do it with his eyes closed, then pressed the round phone icon. The line rang, and he smiled to himself.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, I’m close,” a deep voice moaned in the dimly lit room.

A phone started ringing.

“Ah, hang on,” a higher voice spoke. The owner of the latter voice leaned back to pick the phone up from the bedside table. He already knew who the caller was. _Harry can wait just a few more seconds_ , he thought.

He didn’t stop, still pushing in and out of the slick heat between the taut thighs of a man. His phone continued to ring in the musky air filled with grunts and moans.

“Harry!” Louis answered the call breathily after he’d climaxed, not bothering to wait for the man under him to finish.

“He’s so cute. And so smart.” Harry swooned. “I really like him. I think he may be the one.”

“What kind of puppy did you pick out?” Louis replied in question, resting his free hand on the back of the spent man beside him.

“Puppy?”

“A small dog? You know, the one you’re imagining in your dream apartment loft in NYC,” Louis said as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry lost Louis after he’d said the one and smiled to himself at the thought of marrying the man who was currently having a wee right now. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Lou...”

A pause.

“Shih-poo.” Harry gave in and laughed. “Where are you—wait, no, don’t tell me. Let me guess.”

“You’re only gonna need one guess.” Louis sat up as the man he’d slept with rubbed his shoulder to let him know he’s taking a shower. He cupped the man’s ass cheek as he crawled past Louis to get off of the bed.

“God, Harry. Wish you could see this.” He stared after the man’s naked, retreating figure in pleasure. “This guy’s ass is so tight, you could literally bounce a quarter off of it.”

“Or something bigger,” Louis mischievously called out to the man walking toward the bathroom.

“Quite a picturesque visual while I enjoy my romantic dinner,” Harry commented with a stifled smile, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

“Well, my date and I… We’re sharing a connection… Deep, meaningful conversations.” He stared longingly at the empty chair in front of him. “I took him to this amazing restaurant. Just gave him the red rose.”

Louis grimaced in reply. He wasn’t surprised, but he’d told Harry before his date not to pull out the “big Harry guns” just yet, since it was only the first date, and he barely knew the guy.

Harry glanced at the hallway and wondered why his date was taking so long. Was it a number two?

A few moments later, he saw him coming out of the toilets and walking briskly toward the exit without even giving him so much as a glance. Harry’s eyes grew wide in shock. He should have seen that coming. God, he felt so silly.

Louis, with his grimace still intact, hated to ask, but asked in a matter-of-fact, “He’s leaving, isn’t he?”

“He just.. slipped out the door.”

“Oh, Harry. Time to initiate our suicide pact?”

He pushed his hair back out of habit. “I fear the time’s upon us.”

The left corner of Louis’s lip quirked. “Death by chocolate?”

“‘fraid so,” Harry murmured, a few strands of hair wilted toward his eyes, making him look as crestfallen as he felt it.

“Text me where you are.” He concluded their conversation and pressed the red phone icon on his screen.

“You owe me an orgasm.” Louis looked up at the voice of the forgotten man in the bath.

“I’ll make it double next time,” he suggested as he bent down to pick his clothes up.  
The man was leaning on the doorway, legs crossed. “Is there gonna be a next time?”

He thought about it and sighed, dressing himself up. “Probably not. Sorry, mate.”

“Do you wanna shower at least before you go?” Louis only just noticed that this man still hasn’t taken a shower.

“I didn’t break a sweat.” He was hurriedly putting on his rainbow-colored socks, his black sneakers, then said good-bye.


End file.
